


Don't Touch My Heart (I Was Taken From The Start)

by Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams



Series: Collaborations, Prompts and Requests [21]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec is an artist, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art School, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody has a soulmate, I Blame Tumblr, Light Angst, M/M, Magnus is a fashion designer, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, lots of art things, sort of, whose name is tattoed on their wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams/pseuds/Take_Me_To_My_Fragile_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where everyone has a soulmate whose name is tattooed on their wrist, Alec and Magnus are just trying to find one another among the masses. </p><p>-----</p><p>"It's you," he breathed after a pause, breathless and trembling as he reached a hand out to touch Alexander's cheek. "It's really you."<br/>Alec let out a soft choked laugh, eyes gleaming. "It's me." He whispered, reaching up to hold that hand to his face. And then again, as if he couldn't believe it himself: "It's me."<br/>Their foreheads brushed as they leaned towards one another, soft green meeting warm blue. "I've been waiting for you for what feels like forever."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Find Me, Find You (Just Where Are You?)

**Author's Note:**

> This story started as most of my stories do, with tumblr. I saw this prompt and thought 'this. I want this.' and had to write it. So here you go. Sappy, romantic, fluffy stuff with an undertone of angst.  
> Enjoy :)

_Magnus Bane._ What kind of a name is Magnus Bane? He’s heard some weird and rather strange names, but _that_ , he could honestly say, was wholly unique in it’s own way. Alec might’ve even been glad about that. Since it was so rare it wouldn’t be hard to locate that name among hundreds, after all. Except for well, the very fact that it was so _goddamn_ _rare_. One among thousands, millions even. Not to mention the fact that it was almost certainly a male’s name. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of, and people were rather accepting, but. But there was always something.

He didn’t know if it was better or worse that his parents had never seen the scrawling script on his wrist, all elegant swirls and looping letters. The long since familiar scrawl of his soulmate’s name, written in the ever elusive ‘ _Magnus Bane’s’_ handwriting. It’s another way to help you find your other half, to make sure that there are no mistakes. He’s not really sure about the science behind it, of what doctors had concluded about the names that appeared on a person’s wrist around puberty. He’s never really cared to look into it to be honest. Science tears things like love and soulmates apart. Narrows it down to chemical reactions and hormones. Alec’s never really been a romantic but he knows that he’d rather be clueless than believe that love is nothing more than a random function of his brain, a malfunction if you will. He’s seen love, seen it in his parents and his teachers and his family. He’s seen the way soulmates gravitate towards one another, seen the way their eyes brighten and their smiles widen, seen the way that they care, that they love so hard, so irrevocably. He’s never seen a fated pair that didn’t stay together. And if that’s a chemical reaction then fuck, he hopes his brain goes all out.

Nothing could be better than having someone by your side, someone who will stand by you and love.

There could also be nothing worse than looking down at yourself and seeing the name of someone you’ve never met, someone you may never meet. Life is a ticking clock, a time bomb, and you only have so much time to enjoy. It’s only a matter of time before that name begins to fade, before it becomes a set of almost intelligible words, your loss inscribed into your skin forever. Sometimes you’re lucky. Sometimes a new name appears under the first, sometimes you don’t have to live without hope.

But sometimes there is no new future. Sometimes you have to settle. Sometimes there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

_(Alec has nightmares about that.)_

There was a time when he was twelve, when the name was just beginning to appear, unreadable lines filling in on his pale skin, where he had felt that terror. He’d been asleep, visions of blood and water and screams and _rough hands pushing him down, hurting him, and oh god he couldn’t breathe_ filling his dreams until he’d jerked awake with a desperate scream of a name he hadn’t even know yet, horror filled eyes staring down at his burning wrist as the darkening lines turned gray, fading out before they’d even fully formed. His mother had rushed into his room, eyes wide as she took in his state before pulling him into her arms, rocking and shushing his cries as he’d shaken, beyond terrified. They’d both watched those lines that night, watched until the sun had risen and light had touched his window, watched until the gray had receded and the black had returned, stronger than ever. He’d worried constantly after that, that maybe it would happen again and it did, though not so drastic. Everyone had close calls, _hell_ , he did too and he was sure he’d given his soulmate a fair scare when he’d gotten in that car accident that left him with a concussion and two broken ribs. Life was unpredictable. All they could do was watch the name and hope that their fated would still be alive by the time they were out of high school and able to go out into the world.

It was a horrible way to live, but it had to be done. And most were lucky enough to survive it. He had. His soulmate had, thank god. But now… Now they had to find each other.

And Alec wasn’t so sure that would be possible.

* * *

 The band is hardly even noticeable anymore, it’s such a substantial part of his being that it is like another part of him. He never takes it off anymore and most of the time it stays on even when he’s alone. It’s more habit than anything else, more protection than necessity, and no one has ever see the name that marks his skin. Not even his ever curious sister.

It’s his well guarded secret, something kept only for him. He doesn’t want to share it, not even with his family. There’s a part of him that says its because that’s how it usually is, that most people chose to hide their names. But another says he’s merely hiding, that if no one sees no one will know just how much he’s struggling, just how hopeless his case is.

 _Magnus Bane_. He thinks, staring down at his covered wrist as paint threatens to drip from his paintbrush. _Magnus Bane_ …

A set of brilliant green eyes peer out at him from his canvas.

* * *

 His apartment is small and homey, just the way he likes it. Alec doesn’t like big empty spaces that echo with loneliness. He likes warm tones and soft furniture and the smell of home. _(Plus the view’s rather nice)_

He’s not so bad off, he supposes, as learning art majors go. His parents are well off so they can afford to pay for his expenses without too much worry and his paintings make a rather decent amount of money when shown in exhibitions. He’d worried about that at first, whether he’d be able to support himself through his work, but he’d been pleasantly surprised. People seemed to like the splashes of vibrant colors found in his paintings. They were always warm and full of scenes made out of shades of green and gold, highlights of black and silver making the colors stand out all the more. He liked using other colors of course, had always liked black and whites even, but more often than not he’d found himself reaching for those familiar tubes of paint, his eyes on the name at his wrist.

 _Magnus Bane,_ his paintings spelled out in vibrant lines. _Magnus Bane,_ his fingers sighed as they put pencil to paper. _Magnus Bane,_ he breathed as another creation took form.

_(Find me.)_

* * *

  _Alexander Lightwood._ It was a long name, wrapping around the inner part of Magnus’ wrist in bold curves that seemed almost like vines, their edges sharp and pointed with precision. That name had been his comfort, his rock, for so long. When he’d been recovering from his stepfather’s abuse, scared and alone in a hospital and facing the foster system, that name had been there, edging in onto his tanned skin as if sensing that he couldn’t wait any longer, that he needed it to be there. He’d traced the letters over and over again, memorized their lines, until he could recall their shape even in his mind. He’d wondered what type of person could carry such a name, such handwriting. Wondered if they were as bold as their letters, if they were as sharp as their edges, as straight as their lines. Magnus was a curious person by nature and not knowing wrecked havoc on his imagination. There were so many scenarios, so many possibilities…

_Alexander Lightwood..._

_(Who are you?)_

* * *

 He’d almost lost his rock once, close to the time he was due to graduate from high school. He could remember watching his wrist in horror, the lines angry red as they began to fade around the edges, and for the first time in years Magnus had truly feared being alone.

He’d watched as the ‘r’ in Alexander had lost it’s color, until only a bare outline remained. Had watched as the ‘d’ in Lightwood did the same. It’d stopped there, and Magnus had hoped and prayed and pleaded and cried for days until those letters had regained their bold black.

He could remember dreaming of a crash and glass flying as he rolled _(or was it what was under him?)_ a sickening crunch of metal filling his ears before he jolted forwards, _and his stomach, it hurt, felt like something was stabbing into his side-_

Magnus had woken up panting, hand pressed to his side as phantom pains faded out of his body, wrist burning with the relief that that name was back, and brighter than ever.

 _Alexander Lightwood_. _His soulmate. Safe._

_(Don’t leave me)_

* * *

 He’d shown a friend, Ragnor Fell _(and what a fitting pair they made, them and their odd names)._ Had shared his Alexander with the other male hesitantly and had been show his Rapheal in turn. It had eased the burden slightly, that someone else was there to share his worries and fears, that he could talk to freely.

He’d hoped that perhaps Alexander Lightwood had the same.

_(Though he somehow got the feeling that he didn’t)_

* * *

 He grew up designing clothes, starting with his mother. She’d loved to sew and had shown him all she could in their short time together. He’d pursued the art even after she’d died and had gone through all the knowledge he could find. Scarves and tops and dresses and skirts, you name it, he could make it. It wasn’t long before his friends were asking for help with their halloween costumes, before people were paying for his creations. It had helped him to decide to pursue his dream further in college, to do what he loved and do it well and fuck everyone that disapproved.

_(He loved the color blue and constantly incorporated it into his designs, stitching and layering and folding material into works of art dipped in all shades of the color.)_

Over the years he began to collect clothing that he one day hoped to give to his fated, his hands more often than not producing something for his Alexander to be tucked away into a trunk for safe keeping.

_(Though he wondered (worried) if his fated would like them)_

* * *

 By the time he graduated college he’d already begun to make a name for himself, contacts he’d made through his professor lighting up as people began to want his designs. He was delighted and took as many opportunities as possible, eager to get out into the world and find his soulmate. However, no matter how many states he went, no matter how far he went, no matter how long he searched, he could never seem to find the right name, the right script. Alexander Lightwood was his fated, yes, but that did not make him easy to find.

Magnus constantly wondered if he even _existed_ , only to look down at his wrist and take comfort in the fact that the name was still there and so was his Alexander.

 _Alexander Lightwood_ , he thought desperately as he searched face after face, spoke to person after person.

_(Where are you?)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently meeting your soulmate is harder than it looks, even when you've finally found them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure if I like the ending of this but here you go.  
> Thanks to Kaister for the ideas~ They were the main reason this chapter was written :)

"Izzy, I really don't want to go to some fashion show." Alec frowned, making a face at some of the outfits she was laying on the bed. "Can't one of your friends go?"  
"They're all busy," she dismissed, holding up a flashy shirt before tossing it aside with a shake of her head. "Besides, you promised that this week I could pick the location!"  
He sighed. "Do you really have to pick out my clothes?"  
"We're going to a fashion event, Alec," the younger girl answered, giving him a look. "You are _not_ going in ratty jeans and a stained shirt."  
"It's not that bad," he grumbled, poking at the paint on said shirt.  
"Just go get changed," she ordered, rolling her eyes. "And hurry! I still have to do your make-up."  
 _"What?"_

* * *

Alec shifted self consciously, tugging at his rather tight clothing. A crowd of strangers, dressed in what was apparently high fashion clothing and done up like models surrounded him, milling about in crowds as they awaited the show. Alec already regretted coming.  
His sister was at home, _(of course she was)_ mingling with the other guests eagerly and slowly drifting away to leave him alone. Unfortunately there were no dark corners for him to hide in until she was done and this was over.  
He sighed and turned to grab a drink--and promptly splashed it all over the person behind him.  
For a second all Alec could do was stare, and then he exploded in horror. "Did that just happen? _Oh my god_ \--That just happened. I am _so_ sorry--here let me just--" he grabbed a napkin from the gaping waiter's tray, patting at the other male's expensive looking suit frantically and without much progress. "Oh my god--"  
A warm chuckle answered him in response, a tanned and ring-clad hand lifting to touch his. "It's fine, darling. I never really liked this suit anyway." Vibrant green eyes winked and Alec froze, breath catching because _those eyes, they were_ \--"I was actually forced into this thing, professionalism or so they tell me," the male scoffed, rolling his eyes. "So I must thank you for giving me an excuse to change."  
"I-I-" Alec stuttered, mind blank.  
"I should get going, the show's starting soon." He grinned, giving a little wave. "See you later, blue eyes. Try not to spill anything else on anyone, I might get jealous."  
Alec blinked in response, heart aching as the green eyed male disappeared into the crowd.  
"Sir, are you alright?" The waiter questioned.  
Blue eyes flicked to him in response before looking back to the crowd. A whisper finally left his lips. "I think..."  
 _(I think I know you)_

* * *

The show was a blur of designs that he would never wear but were pretty to look at all the same and worried looks from Izzy.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" She whispered as the lights dimmed around them, what seemed to be the finale starting.  
"I'm fine, Iz." He smiled slightly, fingers rubbing over his wrist. It'd started aching since he'd bumped into the green eyed male and ruined his suit. Alec was worried that something was wrong with Magnus but hadn't had the time to sneak away and take a look.  
"And here's the man of the hour! Our very own, Magnus Bane."  
The world stopped.  
There were no cheers, there were no people, there was no music, there was nothing but the spotlight on the stage, and the man standing there.  
The man who'd been wearing a suit the last time Alec had seen him.  
"Magnus," He choked out, fingers trembling as he touched his wrist. His heart pounded, eyes devouring the sight before him. _This was his soulmate_ , his body sang. _This is him, this is him, this is him-_  
Alec had to physically restrain himself from darting through the crowd and bounding up onto the stage. _Magnus is here._ His heart shouted. _Magnus is here, go get him, finally, finally he's here--_  
"--lec--" A voice called.  
"Al--c--"  
"Alec!"  
He gasped, eyes shooting wide and body jolting as if he'd just come out of water. Sound flooded back into his senses and suddenly he became aware of just how badly he was shaking.  
"Alec!" Isabelle exclaimed, hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"  
"It's him, Iz." He found his mouth saying, eyes wide. "It's him, oh god, he's gorgeous, why would--"  
"It's who, Alec?" She questioned urgently, looking moments away from slapping him which he wouldn't really appreciate. He wasn't hysterical, thank you very much. Not yet anyway.  
"Magnus Bane." He choked out, fingers curling around his band. And for the first time he wanted to bare the name, to show it to the world, to claim the man on the stage as his. "Iz that's him, that's my--my soulmate."  
She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes matching his panicked-wide ones in size as she looked up to the man bound in leather and owning the spotlight. "Oh my god." Isabelle breathed. "Oh my _god_."

* * *

"What do you mean he's booked?" Izzy demanded, pacing back and forth across Alec's room, phone to her ear. "Well he'll definitely want to make time for this!"  
Alec winced, biting his lip as he watched her. They hadn't been able to get to Magnus after the show and it seemed that the fashion designer was unavailable and in London for the next few months. Izzy had been trying to get a hold of him but had been deterred by staff left and right. They apparently didn't want to bother Magnus while he was working on some big project, no matter the reason.  
It seemed that Alec would have to wait a while longer to meet his soulmate.  
Isabelle growled, slamming the phone down onto the receiver in frustration. "Damn bastards!" She hissed, flopping down onto the bed.  
"No luck then?" He questioned quietly, reaching out to stroke her hair.  
"No," she sighed. "Sorry."  
"It's not your fault."  
"Doesn't mean this doesn't suck." Izzy mumbled, turning towards him. "Why didn't you ever tell me anyways?"  
"Why didn't you ever tell me yours?" He countered, giving her bound wrist a pointed look.  
"Touché." She sighed, tugging at the black band. "Simon Lewis."  
He raised an eyebrow. "Simon as in-"  
"Yeah." She grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Him."  
"You're the only person I know who'd want to fight their bond," he rolled his eyes, tugging at her hair.  
"I'm not just going to let him get away with doing nothing." Izzy scowled. "If he wants me he has to earn it."  
"I'm sure he will," Alec murmured, tracing the words written over his veins. "They always do, or so I'm told."  
"You'll meet him, Alec." She promised, touching his hand. "As soon as he gets back, I know you will."

* * *

Magnus was in the middle of a design crisis when the painting caught his eye. He'd noticed it before of course, with all it's vibrancy and beauty _(had even been inspired to make a few designs once or twice)_ but he'd never seen it quite like this.  
"Ragnor," he started slowly, freezing in place.  
"Hmm?" The other male questioned, eyes focused on his laptop.  
"Did you ever notice that that painting looks a lot like my name?"  
"What?" The green haired male frowned, giving him a look. "Has all that hairspray gone to your head?"  
"I'm serious!" He scowled, keeping his gaze fixed on the artwork, careful not to move his head lest he lose sight of the words. "Look at it from this angle and tell me that you don't see my name."  
Ragnor followed suit, grumbling about him being delusional before he let out a sound of surprise. "Magnus Bane," he breathed, eyes wide. "Holy shit."  
Magnus got up, sketch book forgotten as he moved to the painting, fingers tracing the scenery that made his name in looping letters. His eyes came to a stop on two small initials, hidden and tucked into the corner. "A.L." He murmured, barely daring to hope. "Alexander Lightwood."  
"Oh my god-"  
"Where did you buy that, Ragnor?" Magnus demanded, turning to the other male with new hope.  
"It was just something I picked up at this gallery in New York when I was visiting," he stammered, eyes still riveted on the hidden letters.  
"What was the name?" His fingers flew across his phone, ordering a flight back home and telling his staff to rearrange his clients to a later date.  
"Idris."

* * *

It wasn't that hard to locate the gallery, question the owner and get the name of the college Alexander Lightwood went to. From there on it was all just a matter of tracking down the other male's address, heart racing and fingers shaking.  
It took him two days to find the right building, two days to end up on an Alexander Lightwood's doorstep, his Alexander.  
And Magnus couldn't ring the damn doorbell.  
He was dressed to impress, primped and polished to perfection and he was shaking with nerves. Magnus Bane didn't do nerves.  
He was mentally berating himself when the doorknob twisted, the door swinging wide to reveal a mussed and paint-splattered male who seemed to be in on his way out.  
His world froze.  
"Magnus?" Alexander blinked, face shocked.  
Alexander who had familiar blue eyes and a blush high on his cheek bones. Alexander who knew his name. Alexander who he had had within arms reach weeks before.  
Magnus surged forward. He didn't care that they'd only just met, didn't care that this was sudden, that Alexander was probably shocked and out of his depth _because he'd been searching for a lifetime and god, this was it, he'd finally found him._ Their lips met, again and again, until they were gasping each other's air, clutching at one another like they were going to disappear if they let them go for even a second. When they finally parted for air, panting and propped up against the wall, Magnus wondered why he'd been so nervous.  
"It's you," he breathed after a pause, breathless and trembling as he reached a hand out to touch Alexander's cheek. "It's really you."  
Alec let out a soft choked laugh, eyes gleaming. "It's me." He whispered, reaching up to hold that hand to his face. And then again, as if he couldn't believe it himself: "It's me."  
Their foreheads brushed as they leaned towards one another, soft green meeting warm blue. "I've been waiting for you for what feels like forever."  
"I know," he murmured, lips aching sweetly. "I'm sorry I took so long."  
Magnus shook his head, smile soft. "You were worth the wait."  
He blushed, arms tightening around his soulmate. "Do you want to come inside?" Alec questioned. "We're uh--we're probably scarring the neighbors."  
Magnus chuckled, pressing a kiss to one of his blushing cheeks. "Alexander, I'd love to."  
 _(And walking into that apartment? It felt like coming home.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not write more of this verse. It depends on inspiration.


End file.
